Pretentious Facades
by Firefly Red
Summary: "Although the spotlight wasn't theirs to claim, the wizarding crowd chose to remain blissfully clueless about it. For what could be better than a former War Heroine and a famed Quidditch player. hand in hand and head over heels for each other?" (Warning: Plot Twist)


**House: Gryffindor**

 **Category: Short story**

 **Prompt:"Do as I say"**

 **Word count: 2,060**

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The wizarding paparazzi flashed incessantly when the couple of the hour slowly strutted down the Blue carpet, arm in arm and with matching smiles plastered all over their faces.

The mob grew terribly excited, arms stretching out taut just so to place eager fingers on them and the reporters were engaged in a battle of snapping the perfect cover page photo for next week's edition of the Daily Prophet.

The man, wearing a sharp charcoal grey tux and the woman drenched in blood red evening gown on his arm however breezed right through them all.

In they walked through the open mahogany gates of the finest jamboree house of Wizarding London. Their already clasped hands tightened against each other further whilst the wide smiles seemed to only freeze on their lips.

Putting up pretentious facades was an art really.

And although the spotlight wasn't theirs to claim, the wizarding crowd chose to remain blissfully clueless about it.

For what could be better than a former War Heroine and a famed Quidditch player. hand in hand and head over heels for each other?

It should have been his, and his alone.

The ceremony called for the launch of said Quidditch player's exclusive clothing line and the important invitees from all around Wizarding England, including the aristocratic purebloods and the very few halfbloods had also graced the occasion.

Over the hours, the mob outside lessened as security increased and the reporters lounge rapidly grew. The number of witches and wizards that currently stood under the roof of Lockhart's Lavish Lounge gradually elevated too.

It was funny how the witch who was the mastermind behind the Lounge christened the name of such a fine gala setting after one of Hogwarts' most unpopular professors. Perhaps in her younger days, she too had an unwanted attraction towards that wizard, like so many other hormonal witches.

There's no way she'd ever have named it after having seen him, probably covered with wrinkles and other aging signs, lying in one of the beds in St. Mungos' with a terrible case of Amnesia in present day.

Classical music notes slowly drifted across the hall, providing a filmy ball-like ambiance that the woman on the wizard celebrity's arm had often watched in the early 90's on a TV, tucked between between her parents on a leather couch with a dreamy smile on her lips.

The glaring flashes, though lessened inside the hall still continued, enough to give her a mild headache and from the corner of her eye, she could make out the picture of pure satisfaction on her boyfriend's face.

Of course he'd be pleased with all the fawning. He was practically bred to live this kind of life.

Two polar opposites were supposedly madly in love. That was how their love story could be described and written about as.

He was always an attractive bloke, exhibiting dominant personality vibes despite his warm smiles. When it came to Quidditch, no one could get as passionate as him and she would never admit out loud that she partly made it to Gryffindor practice sessions just so she could watch him expertly swerve his broom without breaking a sweat.

Her two best friends could never know.

They first had a proper meeting only after she completed her 8th year and from then on, she was very convinced that this was how a whirlwind romance worked itself out. Things happened so fast, and it almost killed her to know she had given up her virginity in haste to him. The night they shared was memorable yes, but she suspected he had many such nights before.

He had 4 more years of existence over her and there was no telling what a famous Quidditch player could be up to after Firewhiskey parties involving a horde of crooning witches and drunk wizards.

Simply put, things were progressively growing stale between them in proportion to his ever increasing fame and she had seen one too many lonely nights at home when he'd be out.

It had been well over 2 months since he had placed a noticeable distance between them and she could only wonder why.

Even now, his eyes were more keenly fixed upon the many witches and wizards that kept coming over to him and his taut body exhumed alertness for reporters and not for the discomfort his girlfriend had over her headache.

Pretty soon, she slipped her hand from his and floated away to a less densely crowded part of the hall.

And as expected, her boyfriend barely noticed, even if the paparazzi did. After all, she was still famed for being the Boy who killed Voldemort's best friend.

One man in particular had his eyes glued to hers.

So lost was she in her own misery that the usually vigilant Brightest Witch of her Age failed to notice those intense pair of molten grey irises fixed on her from the moment she had stepped in.

She was being keenly observed and she was so blissfully unaware.

It was only when she had walked over to the bar situated on the far corner of the hall and ordered for a tall glass of Butterbeer that a male voice sounded right into her ear.

"Can't see Potter and Weasley anywhere. Did you forget to babysit them today?"

If there was one voice that invariably sounded like a smirk weaved itself through the words that were uttered from his mouth, it was Draco Malfoy's.

She barely turned to acknowledge him, only simply letting out a "Hello to you too Malfoy."

She grabbed the glass from the bar wizard's hand and took a long swig, all the while ignoring how the blond ferret stood by,

He continued to stand next to her when she turned around to shoot a glance at the "love of her life", only to find that a couple of witches had swarmed around him, obviously relishing in the absence of the fiery brown-haired witch by his side.

The sight of that smug look on his face disgusted her. She was almost sure the only reason he hadn't invited Harry and Ron was because he knew they'd both pummel him for the way he often treated her in such parties.

The camera flashes increased in their intensity, seemingly scamming for a little controversial photo what with the famed Quidditch player being surrounded by crooning witches while his girlfriend stood at a noticeable distance away, watching him in dismay.

People were going to see right through their pretentious facade now.

Her hand tightened around the glass when she realized this and she swore under her breath.

Just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, a hand suddenly clamped down onto her wrist. Startled, she swirled around to meet the serious grey eyes of her former childhood bully.

Apparently, he had seen enough of the unfolding drama.

"I don't know who do you think you two are fooling by playing the role of dotting lovebirds of Wizarding England. But don't think for a second I buy that shit Granger"

Even during his Headboy days, he had the fine knack of looking right through things and had often condemned her for wearing her emotions on her sleeve. She'd come back to the Head dorms after a terrible fight with Ron and he'd merely glance at her before saying "Why do you give such a crap to gingerhead anyway Granger?"

On the days when she would come back to the dorms after an unfruitful session in the Library, he'd say "Gee Granger, I'd say you are a whole month ahead of us. No need to fret over it like an ungrateful prissy."

He had become somewhat of a neutrality, rather than an enemy. The War had sobered them all.

At least that's what she told herself to justify his sudden...politeness.

That had been almost a decade ago and yet nothing had changed. Except for the fringe falling over his forehead due to the lack of gel and an aura of authority surrounding him, he hadn't changed at all.

"Do as I say" he now muttered and too dumbfounded to even respond, brown eyes stared blankly back at him before he whispered again.

"Kiss me"

Those very eyes widened instantly.

"Wha.."

"Just kiss me Granger"

She knew right then what he meant to do.

 _Get back at her jerk of a boyfriend, Oliver Wood._

She had never forgotten the Slytherin traits running deep in his blood, nor her own cautious attitude when around the students who wore silver and green ties back in her Hogwarts days. But today, there was a certain conviction in his entire stance that told her she could bloody well trust Draco Malfoy on this one occasion.

Her nerves were already on edge after having seen her boyfriend allow a young witch to firmly press her lips against his cheek and Malfoy's words were just another trigger.

She almost offered him a wild Malfoy like smirk of her own before pulling his head to crush her lips with his.

It was all a haze then.

All she could feel were his lips moving expertly against hers and his hands slowly running up her arms. She remembered a time an eternity ago when she had accidentally come across him and a fellow sixth year snogging wildly. It had left her feeling queasy, especially when he returned to the dorm an hour later with kiss-swollen lips and well-mussed hair.

She'd never admit how he looked undeniably attractive that night.

Her eyes remained closed as the two former enemies savored the other's taste but her ears perked up when she heard some cries break out and some more clicks going.

The kiss lasted for a minute or two but to her, it felt like only a few seconds.

When she finally did pull away, her heart jumped at the sight of the smirk Malfoy gifted her. She almost didn't hear the stomps rapidly approaching them near the bar until a strong hand pushed the blond-haired man away from her and her mouth opened in protest.

"What the fuck are you doing Malfoy?" Oliver sure knew how to play the role of a possessive boyfriend in public.

She watched as the smirk on Malfoy's lips gradually curl into a sneer and his grey eyes flashed dangerously. It was the kind of look, she remembered suddenly, he often got when Ron mistreated her and she'd come back to the Dorms with faint streaks of tears on her face.

"Nothing Wood" the calmness in his voice rivaled with the dark glint in his silver orbs. "Just thought you shouldn't be the only one to give the papers something to talk about after tonight."

If Oliver Wood was angry, he never made a move to pummel him. Though he did look taken aback.

Draco's eyes locked back to hers and he gave her a kind of "bad boy" wink, complete with the handsome smirk and his fair locks falling over his forehead. He then strutted out of the hall with the kind of regal stance only a Malfoy could muster, leaving the flashes and whispering behind in the hall.

"Hermione, care to explain?"

He was now going to mold a facade of being the betrayed boyfriend so as to gain all the sympathy he could.

She was ready for it.

"Oh nothing honey" her voice was laced with poisonous honey. "A little harmless fraternization that's all."

"Harmless?" he sounded incredulous now.

She had walked up to him and now stood real close. "Just thought..." she muttered coldly. "If you were gonna give the papers something to talk about, then so would I."

By the time he decided to retaliate with an excuse, the brunette had already left him in the hall to deal with the flashes and whispering.

She chose to retrace the footsteps of one platinum-haired former Slytherin instead since there was no point in staying back and putting up a facade for a romance that could only be described as two polar opposites supposedly madly in love.

She was done doing that for now.

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 **Hope that was good! Reviews y'all**


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